


T-shirts and Hand Holding

by devoosha



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Getting Together, Kinda, Lance is his own worst enemy, Lance’s mouth and body do not listen to his brain, M/M, kinda already dating, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devoosha/pseuds/devoosha
Summary: Despite the fact that Lance wants Keith all to himself, he knows...just knows...Keith doesn’t feel the same about him.  So he does what any best friend would do.  Help the love of his life hookup with someone else.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 161
Collections: Klance: Into the Multiverse, Klasix Master Collection





	T-shirts and Hand Holding

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this half-drunk during February’s DWDK (Drink Write Draw Klance) night, using the dialogue prompt “I want to sleep in your stupid t-shirts and hold your stupid hand.” When I checked it over in the morning, I was surprised that there were few mistakes in it! So I finished it, cleaned it up, and present it to you!

**T-Shirts and Hand Holding**

“Are these the only shirts you own,” Lance growled in an irritated voice, rifling through Keith’s dresser.

Keith, who sat on the bed watching his roommate invade his space with a glare, said, “They’re comfortable, okay?”

“I know you got the whole fucking emo vibe going on…but fuck, Keith. There’s something called variety.”

“The shirts all have different stuff on them!”

Lance not-so-patiently turned to look at the grumpy face staring back at him. “Different stuff? One with _‘My Hero Academia’_ on it…” and he shook the black t-shirt in his left hand, “…and one with _‘Haikyuu’_ on it…” he shook the black t-shirt in his right, “…is not different. They’re two different anime’s!”

“Yeah, different!”

“They’re all black.”

“So?”

“That’s not variety.”

“There’s color _on_ them.”

Lance sighed, turning back to the drawer. At least they were all neatly folded. He could give Keith that. Well, they had been before Lance started pawing through them. 

“I thought you wanted to look good when we went out tonight. You know, attract the attention of some hot guy?” Lance commented, pushing the drawer shut and leaving the mess he made inside.

“I don’t want to attract any attention. Where’d you get that?”

Lance shrugged. “It was your idea to go out.”

“And you picked that stupid club.”

“I thought I might help you score.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Lance turned back to him, shaking his finger. “Au contraire! As your roommate, I know there is no action happening there,” he said, pointing the same finger at the bed where Keith sat. “And since you’re home every night, I know it’s not happening anywhere else.”

“Okay, first of all, why do you know that? And second, you only notice because you are also nowhere getting action yourself.”

Well, that shot hit home. He floundered a moment to think of a response that wasn’t _’maybe I don’t randomly hook up with other people cause I wanna hook up with my unfairly hot roommate’_.

Which, when he thought of it, didn’t make sense that he proposed taking Keith out to _get_ him a hookup. But it’s how Lance’s mind worked. Keith wasn’t into him, so he’d do his best to help the love of his life out and find happiness. If that meant getting some with someone else, well, Lance could stay the night at Hunk’s and deal with the heartbreak in the morning.

Lance didn’t answer him; instead, he went to the closet to find something there. Nope. No luck. He sighed. “I guess t-shirt it is,” he said. He did find a long sleeve red t-shirt in the closet. He tossed it to Keith with a “change into this” and went back to the dresser. The first t-shirt to hand – the _‘Haikyuu’_ one – he also tossed to Keith. “Put that on over the red shirt. I guess this is as good as I can do. Wear your black jeans, too. Embrace the emo.”

“Fuck you,” Keith snarled from underneath the red shirt he was pulling over his head.

 _‘If only,’_ Lance thought bitterly.

* * *

The club was…the club. Noisy, crowded, hot (not in a good way), and filled with drunk girls and grope-y men. Lance tried to get Keith out to dance, but Keith kept his awkward ass at the bar, nursing a rum and coke and watching the dancing crowd grind on each other. Lance didn’t have any fun, despite a sorority girl riding his thigh or the handsy-but-cute guy he danced with (no fun pushing hands away when all Lance wanted to do was dance).

Wait? Was that…? Was Keith talking to someone? Lance stumbled to the side of the dance floor to get a better look at the bar. Yes. A nerdy guy was leaning against the bar smiling at Keith with a perfect smile. And Keith was smiling back. The sort of smile Lance rarely saw – a kind of flirtatious smile. And did Keith just tuck his hair back behind his ear as he laughed at something? Shit! 

Lance edged over to the bar, dodging around gyrating bodies, and slid onto the seat behind Keith. He signaled the bartender and totally didn’t eavesdrop on Keith’s conversation. Okay, he did, only to find out they were talking about fucking ‘ _Haikyuu_ ’. Or trying to over the loud music. Did the fucking t-shirt work? 

“Oh, and this is my roommate. Lance? This is Doug.”

 _‘Of course, his name is Doug,’_ Lance thought, eyeing Doug up and down. He looked like a predator, sitting there in his nice jeans and a casual shirt and his glasses. “S’up DOUG,” he shouted.

“Hi!” Doug called back, giving Lance a friendly smile. “Keith told me you picked out his outfit. Nice choice!”

“I didn’t have much to work with,” Lance yelled back. “Keith is fashion impaired!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Doug said, giving Keith a once over. “He looks pretty cute to me.”

 _‘Doug, you smooth fucker,’_ Lance sneered to himself. Keith giggled. Actually giggled. Fuck.

Keith and Doug continued talking, as well as they could over the music. Lance sat on the other side of Keith, brooding over his fruity drink. It wasn’t an interesting talk he listened to, but Keith seemed happy. Lance told himself over and over that’s all he wanted. Keith to be happy. If it meant scoring with Doug the Nerd, Lance would have to accept it.

Accept it. Not like it.

And smooth Doug? Fucker started hinting around at taking off. Making vague suggestions about going back to his place. Lance heard the hints, but apparently, Keith didn’t or was so clueless he didn’t understand. Ugh, this was brutal.

“I’m gonna go,” Lance shouted in Keith’s ear after he stood up. He tossed some extra dollar bills on the bar counter, which the bartender snatched up right away. 

“Already? It’s early.”

“I can take you home, Keith. Later.” 

Lance glared at the helpful Doug.

“Oh,” Keith said confusedly, glancing at the guy. “I guess that’s okay.”

“Fine!” Lance said, putting a too-bright smile on his face. He shot finger guns at Keith. “Don’t stay out too late, Keithy,” he yelled. “Or if you do, bring coffee home with you tomorrow morning.”

Without waiting for a response, he spun around and stalked out of the club.

* * *

Lance muttered to himself all the way home. Okay, all the way home was only about six blocks, but he still muttered! His hands were shoved stiffly in his jacket pockets and the people he passed by gave him odd looks. His brain told him to be happy for Keith, but why the fuck did his brain think this whole thing was a good idea? _He_ was the one that wanted Keith. Doug didn’t deserve him. Not that Lance did, but Doug didn’t know Keith liked his bacon extra crispy, or how Keith enjoyed rom coms, or that Keith preferred using a red toothbrush. _Lance_ knew all these things. He knew _everything_ about Keith.

Not that Keith cared. They’d been roommates for two years. Friends for four years before that when they met at college. Best friends. Not just friends. 

Anyway. Lance was the one who could take care of Keith the way he deserved. Didn’t he do it already? He thought Keith appreciated it, but Lance guessed Keith thought Doug could do that now. Doug would be the one kissing Keith senseless tonight. Doug would be the one with his legs hooked around Keith’s hips. Doug would be the one moaning Keith’s name tonight.

Not Lance.

Well, Lance could still moan his name, couldn’t he? He’d have the place to himself, so he could jerk off to thoughts of Keith and not have to bite his other hand to avoid calling Keith’s name for his roommate in the next room to hear. He didn’t care if Mrs. Nesbit next door heard him.

He was so lost in his angry thoughts he walked past their apartment building and had to turn around, feeling like an idiot. Okay, so he didn’t deserve Keith. Keith found his love in an anime geek named Doug. He probably had a nice, steady job as an accountant or tax preparer or something. Not like Lance, who did entry-level work at a publisher. Lance had nothing to offer Keith.

Just his whole heart.

* * *

The height of pathetic. Lance stood in Keith’s bedroom, staring at the slightly rumpled comforter left from where Keith sat before getting dressed. The quiet of the apartment brought a lump up into his throat, which was odd because it wasn’t as if Keith made a lot of noise in the first place. It was a big change from Lance’s home growing up that was too small for the number of family who lived in it – hence the crowded and noisy space he lived in. Living with Keith – quiet Keith – was a world and a whole level of comfort apart.

He wanted it to last forever.

Wanted to wake Keith with the smell of coffee and pancakes. Wanted to cuddle with Keith on the couch with one of his stupid rom coms. Wanted to take out the trash and clean the bathroom and the other chores they did on Saturday morning. 

Most of all he wanted to wake up next to Keith with sleepy smiles and soft touches.

No. Lance missed out on that. Doug would get that in the morning.

And probably forever after that. Doug would be _‘the one’_ and soon Lance would be standing as best man, putting his fake smile on as he handed the perfect ring Doug picked out for himself to Keith. Oh shit, he’d have to give a toast. How could Lance toast the man he loved marrying nerdy Doug? Maybe he could tell Keith he got a job in another country. He’d have to move, but one must make sacrifices. Lance couldn’t watch Keith marry Doug.

Ugh, Lance wanted to punch Doug in his perfect face and break the perfect caps on his perfect teeth.

Then he felt bad for blaming Doug. Doug was just on the prowl for a hot guy and found him. It was Lance’s fault. _He_ dragged Keith out when Keith didn’t want to go. Lance was seriously his own worst cock-block.

Not that Keith would ever want his…well. 

He looked at the dresser and saw he’d left the one drawer slightly open with a t-shirt half hanging out. Lance shook his head, went over, and opened the drawer. It was the other anime shirt. The _'My Hero Academia'_ one. He pressed it against his face, pulling in a deep breath. It smelled of laundry detergent and not Keith, and it made him feel more sorry for himself. He didn’t even have that.

 _‘Wait,’_ he thought, turning his head to look at the bed. He stared for a few minutes before hastily tugging off his own stylish (thank-you-very-much) shirt and tight jeans. He pulled Keith’s t-shirt over his head, settling the slightly larger garment over his stomach. Keith wouldn’t be home until morning, so may as well completely wallow in his misery.

Ah yes, the pillows smelled like Keith. Of his woodsy shampoo and the smell that was just Keith, which reminded Lance of campfires and outdoors and wholesomeness. Lance pulled the covers over him, snuggling his face into the pillow and wrapping himself up best as he could, imagining Keith behind him. Maybe an arm around his waist. 

Okay, this was the worst idea he’d had. This reached a new level of pathetic and his self-loathing edged up a notch. Tears pricked his eyes and he pulled the cover over his head. God, he was such a fucking idiot. 

But Keith was happy, he kept telling himself. Keith was smiling and flirting and giggling. Keith never giggled. Keith laughed full-out belly laughs when he found something funny. Adorably unattractive snorts and wheezes. No. Doug got cute, little giggles.

Lance ground his teeth and clenched the blanket with his fists. Doug was probably getting moans right about now.

 _‘Lance’_ would be a name so much better to cry out in passion than _‘Doug’_.

“Lance?”

See? It did sound better from Keith’s mouth. Wait. That wasn’t said in passion. That was said in confusion. And actually said. From the direction of the door.

Lance flopped over, squirming out from under the comforter to sit up. Blinking the unshed tears back, he gaped at the figure standing in the open door. Keith? Why was Keith there?

“Why are you here?” he blurted.

“Uh. This is my room. Why are you here?”

Keith _sounded_ confused, but Lance _was_ confused. Fuck, did Keith bring Doug home to bang him here? Like, the height of rudeness. Doug must be either a married, straight guy or live with other people who were all home banging their hookups. Lance should have gone straight to Hunk’s place.

“You didn’t bring Doug back, did you? Cause I can go to Hunk’s if you want to, you know, fuck him privately.”

Keith’s face scrunched up in that way he did when he had no idea what Lance was talking about. He often made that face. “Fuck…Doug?”

“Yeah, he seemed really into you.”

“Is that why you left?”

Lance wasn’t about to admit that. “Yeah,” he admitted. Fucking mouth. “I mean, uh, I wanted to give you a chance. Get out of your way.”

“So you leave me stranded at the club with some stranger?”

“Stranger? You were practically eye-fucking him.”

“I was not!”

“You were! You were so into him!”

“No!”

“You giggled, Keith. You actually giggled!”

“I did not.”

“No. You did,” Lance accused, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Is that my shirt?” Keith asked.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Why are you wearing my shirt? And why are you in my bed?”

“Because you went home with Doug!”

“I did not go home with Doug!”

“I beg to differ.”

“Lance,” Keith said, throwing his hands out in exasperation to his sides, “I’m literally standing right here in our apartment. In my room. I obviously didn’t go home with Doug!”

Lance wasn’t going to let details or facts invade his self-misery. He was perfectly happy wallowing before Keith came barging in to fuck that up. The question did pop into his head of why Keith was home and not letting Doug ride the Keith express. But he wasn’t about to ask that.

“Why didn’t you?”

Stupid mouth.

“Why didn’t I what?”

Maybe Doug saw how dense Keith was and decided not to take him home. “Go home with Doug.”

“I wasn’t interested in hooking up with him. He was boring.”

“It sure looked like you wanted it. You were flirting.”

“Was I?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I don’t know how to flirt.”

Well, honestly, he didn’t. Not normally. Maybe if he did, Keith would’ve noticed all the times Lance tried to flirt with him. Still, Keith looked like he had a degree in flirtology tonight and had flexed his skills to the utmost. Not that Lance would tell him.

“You certainly looked like a pro flirt tonight.”

Keith reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Not a thing. And it doesn’t answer the question of why you’re in my room, in my bed, and in my clothes!”

“You didn’t answer why you didn’t go home with Doug!”

“I did, too! I said he was boring!” Keith argued.

“You can get around boring for a nice piece of ass, you know.”

“Why are you like this?” Keith growled. “Honestly. You push me to go to this club. You leave me alone with a boring idiot who only talked about himself. You’re mad at me when I come home.”

“I just wanted you to have a good time!” Lance yelled.

“I would have had a better time at the movies with you. Or dinner. Anything but a stupid club!” Keith shouted back. 

“Then why go?”

“Because you wanted to!”

“I didn’t want to go!” Lance exclaimed.

“I got that after you came to the bar. You looked like you didn’t want to be there.”

“I didn’t. Tonight was not what I wanted.” Mouth, keep yourself shut, dammit!

“What the fuck do you want?” Keith demanded.

Lance pressed his clenched fists into his thighs. His obvious answer was the man standing across the room with a pissed-off look on his face, but he definitely couldn’t say that. He warned his mouth it would suffer dire consequences if it blurted that information out. “I want to sleep in your stupid t-shirts and hold your stupid hand!” he blurted instead.

Keith gaped at him, mouth hanging open. They stared at each other too long, making Lance’s last nerve fray. “Wh-what?” Keith gasped.

“I didn’t say anything!” Lance cried, but he knew Keith had heard. He was such an idiot. With a strangled sound, he pulled the comforter over his head and hunkered down on the bed as he rolled over to his side, facing away from Keith’s eyes. “Just leave me alone!” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Which, after he said it, he realized was a dumb thing to say. He was the one in Keith’s bed. Lance should be the one leaving Keith alone. He should have dashed past Keith out the door and hidden for the rest of his life in his own room. Or wait. Keith had to work Monday so Lance could move out that day. Call out sick from work and pack everything up and…then what? Hunk? Lance was sure Shay wouldn’t mind him staying temporarily forever with her and Hunk, right?

Kind of a dick move on his part, leaving Keith to pay the whole rent though? Maybe _Doug_ could move in.

The bed dipped with the weight of something settling behind him and a pressure landing on his hip. He curled into a fetal position like a roly-poly bug, picturing himself with a hard shell to repel any of Keith’s pity for him. 

“Lance…”

“Go away.”

“Why should I leave my own room?”

He had a point. “What’s your point?”

Keith didn’t answer. Lance felt the fingers resting on his hip clench, their points pressing in through the cushy comforter. After what seemed like hours, Keith spoke softly, “If you felt that way, why did you take me out to the club to meet someone?”

Lance squirmed in his cramped position. He was not ready for this conversation. He did not want to fuck up the best friendship he’d ever had – the best _relationship_ he’d ever had. Nothing would be the same no matter what he answered, and Keith knew him well enough that Lance would never be able to sneak lies past him. He’d been able to hide how he felt, but now that it was out there, Keith would know any lie Lance said about it would be untrue.

However, he thought, one way or another Keith would eventually leave him anyway, once he did find a non-boring Doug. Might as well make the push now.

“I want you to be happy.”

“Okay…”

“I know you don’t feel that way about me.” Be strong, Lance. Hold back the sniffles. Don’t cry in front of Keith about this. He sniffled. “I thought I’d help you find someone who made you happy.” Really? Sniffles? He might as well be sobbing on the couch with a cookie dough log in one hand and a gallon of Rocky Road in the other.

“How do you know I don’t feel that way about you?”

“Cause you don’t.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing…” Lance cringed. Here it comes. The REJECTION. He remembered there was a log of cookie dough in the freezer. He would need to get the Rocky Road. Keith added with a trace of amusement in his tone, “I don’t want to wear your t-shirts. They’re too small for me…”

“Nice…” Lance choked out.

“…but I do want to hold your hand.”

Wait, what? 

“Wait, what?” he voiced aloud.

“And make you breakfast…”

“You can’t cook…”

“And share a blanket on the couch when we watch movies…”

“We do that already…”

“And beat you at skeeball at the arcade…”

“You never win…”

Lance felt Keith’s weight press him down as Keith leaned over him. The comforter inched away from his face, slowly revealing Keith’s grinning form hovering over him. “And kiss you before we sleep and when we wake up…”

“What about morning breath? Yours is pretty bad, Keith…”

“You ass, I’m trying to tell you I like you, too.”

“You do?”

“No, not really…”

“What the actual fuck!” Lance yelled, trying to pull the cover back up. Keith, however, held it firm.

“I love you, idiot.”

“You’re not supposed to say it first!” Lance cried. “I’m the one supposed to give you a dramatic confession!”

Keith laughed. Not those fake ass giggles Doug got, but the warm, deep belly laughs that Lance could always coax from him. “I’d say this is dramatic enough,” he gasped out when he caught his breath.

“You really do?” Lance asked. He hated the way his voice sounded so pleading. 

“I really do,” Keith said. “I have forever.”

Lance would not admit to Keith how long he had pined for his best friend. “Well, I’ve loved you forever.”

And, oh, how Keith looked when Lance said that. All Keith’s sharp angles softened as his amused smile turned fond. And loving. And closer. Okay, much closer. So close Lance closed his eyes as that smile pressed against his lips. It was a light spark Lance felt, but it set off the proverbial fireworks in his heart. It was as perfect as Keith was, soft and demanding, nothing like he’d ever felt before and everything he’d ever dreamed. More than he’d dreamed. Lance snuck his arms out somehow to grab hold of Keith and yank him closer.

A little chuckle escaped Keith when he managed to pull back. “Mind if I join you?”

“It is your bed,” Lance said, his heart giddy with excitement.

“True,” Keith agreed. He sat up and pulled his two shirts off and tossed them to the side. “Unless you want it to be _‘our’_ bed.”

“Just get your pants off and get in here. We can decide tomorrow whose bed gets to be _‘ours’_.” Lance watched as Keith hurried to take off his jeans, nearly falling onto his ass in the process. Now he would get to kiss Keith before going to sleep (among other things) and wake Keith with kisses in the morning. The most important, thing, though he would keep to himself.

Lance held out his hand to his beautiful new boyfriend, standing there in his boxer shorts and socks. Keith took it and smiled. “I’m keeping your t-shirt on,” Lance said.

Oops.

“Anything you want, weirdo!” Keith said, then jumped on top of Lance with a laugh. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing Lance’s mouth and body doing everything his brain told him not to do and say. I especially love letting Lance’s inner thoughts spiral into over-exaggerated situations. 
> 
> Follow @DWDKlance on Twitter!
> 
> Or follow me @devoosha on Twitter!
> 
> Or follow both!
> 
> Writing links can be found @devooshawrites on Tumblr.


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